


Flowers for the King

by ExplodedStars



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Canon Universe, Darkling Woods, Flowers, Flowers for Arthur, Flowers for the King, Fluff, Gardening, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Magic, Magical gardening, One Shot, Other, Post Uther's death, SO MUCH FLUFF, Secret Magic, Short One Shot, Sunflowers, Whimsical, hideout, magical flowers, secret hideout, wildflowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24338803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplodedStars/pseuds/ExplodedStars
Summary: Merlin has a new hobby. And a new place to spend his time. Featuring a whole lot of imagery and flowers
Relationships: Elyan & Gwen (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 255





	Flowers for the King

**♡♡♡**

A panting and jittery Merlin barged into the king's chambers and plopped a pair of now shining boots by the bed, absently throwing a cloth over them to protect them from moths and dust. Polishing Arthur's boots was the last task of the day, and now that it was done, Merlin was hasty to get his beloved secret hideaway.

"Alright, that's the last of it. Goodnight, Arthur."

"Hang on!" the King had meandered into the room shortly before and had now (rather melodramatically) plonked himself onto the bed, pulling the newly spread sheets from their tucked corners. The council meetings were Arthur's most heavily despised duty, although Merlin wondered if Arthur had any duties that he didn't heavily despise.

"I just changed those sheets Arthur, for Gods' sake!" Merlin sighed What do you need?"

"Well for one, I've told you that you are to address me as 'Sire' or 'Your Highness' or––" Merlin snorted at this, remembering how he had once pathetically obliged to these commands."Merlin, don't laugh. You are _manservant,_ remember? Not my guest. Anyway, there is no way that you have finished everything so soon." Arthur paused to think, "Have you polished my chainmail?"

"Yes, ' _Sire'._ "

"Have you washed my tunic?"

"I have, _'Your Highness'._ "

"Did you mend my shirts?"

Merlin was getting impatient, "I have, Arthur! I've done it all." It seemed Arthur was simply being stubborn and Merlin had better things to do. Things involving a nice nap by the fire, maybe learning a few new spells, and planting an orchid or two. Merlin had been growing quite fond of the little garden of wildflowers he had sprouted in his quiet humble lair, but he'd decided what he needed, was more _variety._ He had plenty of daisies and forest lilies, but maybe some callunas and tulips could––

"Fine, then," Arthur had hardly finished his sentence before Merlin began hustling out the door. "What are you so eager to get to, anyway?" Arthur sulked to no one in particular because Merlin was already gone. The king sighed to himself. Lately Merlin was always bursting to escape the moment his duties were finished. He wondered what his manservant got up to. Surely he hasn't been worked so hard that he's that eager to simply go home to Gaius and his sludgy old stew and medicines? Surely being with Arthur wasn't that draining? Right?

Merlin gave no thought to Arthur and his mopey attitude as he dashed to Gaius' chambers for his satchel, raced down the castle steps and hurried past the drawbridge, round the side of the gates and into the trees of the Darkling Woods. It bemused Merlin that so many people feared the Darkling Woods, particularly in the evening. Gaius believed it was simply myths and superstitions that had been invented by people. It was incredible easy for folk to transform what were once childhood tales into fearsome realities in their minds. But Merlin knew that the woods were precious and whimsical, especially in the hours after noon, when the peachy rose hues of the sky slowly turned to a deep violet and provided the old trees a perfect canvas to flaunt their silhouettes.

And besides, Merlin had found the perfect hideout.

He breathed deeply and took it all in as he approached, as if it were his first time. Passing the ash trees and pines, he ducked under the giant beech trees that hid his place of solace from the world. Past them was a gradual dip in the land and nestled in the dip was the ruins. Perched in its place like a sparrow in its homely nest.

Simply put, that's all it was. The ruins of possibly an ancient castle, maybe an old Druid settlement. But it was really much more than that. It was a work of art. Vines embroidered magnificent patterns as they creeped and covered what remained of the stone. Only two pillars remained fully intact enveloped by bright pink bougainvilleas and soft purple wisterias. The pillars held up half a ceiling, the only part of the building that wasn't entirely overtaken by nature.

Periwinkles carpeted the floor of the ruins which broke off in a deformed semicircle that merged with the earth. It was at the edge of this floor that Merlin had chosen to grow his little garden. There were cornflowers, winter heath, foxgloves, daisies and forest lilies, all planted and sprouted on the same day. Because here, Merlin didn't have to be excused from his magic.

The half roof of the ruin removed any possibility of smoke or fire been seen from afar. And the sloped ground guarded by a thick gate of trees would hide him from everyone and anyone who could spot him. He didn't have to hide or be wary. He didn't have to check if anyone was watching. Here, there was safety, a sense of homeliness. Here, he could be _Emrys_. And _Emrys_ could make the fire soar like an eagle or gallop like a horse, and he could make the vines form the faces of his beloved. And most of all, he could make his flowers bloom. If he wished, in an instant he could make their seeds come to life as soon as they hit the soil.

But curiously, he didn't. Of course a little help was offered. Especially at the start, when Merlin would cave to the impatience of waiting for them to break the surface. But after they did, he cared for them the way anyone else would. He watered them, tended to them and even magicked some kinds of dungfor them (but he made sure he magicked the smell away).

In some ways, his garden had become one of Merlin's most valued treasures.

After a watering and thorough examination of his cherished plants, a satisfied Merlin sat himself down on the ruins. With is glistening golden eyes, he brought over some firewood from the giant pile of firewood he had collected days ago. Resting his tired eyes, he set the wood alight, the flames dancing as fluttering butterflies in the darkening night. From his satchel, he reached for his spell books.

For at least an hour, the intent warlock loaded his brain with new spells, trying them out as he went. He listened closely to the spirits of the trees, he a faraway cloud rain in the clear night, he made his eyes see through the dark, he saw into the souls of passing forest creatures and he made the stars shine brighter. So bright that their glow matched that of the moon. Merlin felt like he was creating a world of his own in the night sky.

Growing aware of his weariness, Merlin packed his books away, entertaining himself for a few moments with the fire. He sighed as he watched the contents of his mind merge with what came to life in the flame. He watched his mother's gentle smile appear and then Gwen's contagious laughter. He watched Arthur appear. His hair was blowing in a non-existent wind and his smiling eyes looked right at Merlin. His grinning face morphed into a sleeping one, his hair transforming into the scruffy mess it was this morning.

He seemed so much more gentler in his sleep, the worry line that were constantly present on his face these days were entirely gone. His mouth hung slightly open, lips dry from lack of hydration. Arthur never drank enough water, no matter how much Merlin prodded him about it. Mindlessly, Merlin now reached out, momentarily forgetting the very real fire that held Arthur in front of him. He pulled his pulled his fingers away from the flames too late, cursing and blowing frantically at them.

Quite some time of cursing and burn-soothing magic later, Merlin decided it was time to head back. He snipped away an abundance of flowers from his bountiful garden, enough for a few friends, and carefully placed them in his satchel in thoughtfully arranged bouquets. With a bit of magical effort, he made the cut plants grow back––just enough to make sure they wouldn't die–– and made his way back through the old beech trees, his heart full as he departed his secret spot.

"Why on earth would you buy flowers for the night, Merlin?" was Gaius' greeting when his ward arrived home. "They'll be dead by morning, you silly boy."

"I didn't buy them." Merlin stated matter-of-factly, placing a bunch of his flowers in a cup of water. "And trust me, they'll be fine in the morning."

**♡♡♡**

The rays of morning sun gushed through the tiny window, jolting the boy awake before he even opened his eyes. The young warlock sat up with a grumble, sheets pulled over him this way and that, and his hair sticking up like a startled owl. Rubbing his eyes, Merlin stumbled down from his room and stopped a moment to acknowledge the flowers that sat on the table with a smile.

Gaius laid on his cot, still snoring away. The old physician's mind was still skilled and capable as ever, but his body was needing more rest these days, and he found himself falling asleep on a few too many of his patients' beds. Feeling generous, Merlin decided not to wake him, and made porridge for the two––with a sprinkling of cinnamon for Gaius and a dash of nutmeg for himself. He silently reminded himself to get a loaf of bread because as much as he had gotten accustomed to the dwindling food supply during these harsh winter months, he was craving some real food rather than the same flavoured sludge every morning.

Merlin admired his wildflowers as he ate. The bright combination of sundrops and orange catchflies were still as fresh and fragrant as when he had brought them in, and they lit up the room with a splash of colour. _He_ had made them. _Him_. All by himself. He'd planted them, watered them, pruned them and now... how lovely they looked. Merlin couldn't wipe the grin off his face even if he wanted to (which he did not). Gaius rose to this smiling Merlin a little while later. "You made breakfast? What's going on?" he switched his gaze between the bowl of porridge awaiting him and Merlin, whose smile was beginning to make the old physician uneasy.

"What? Nothing!" Merlin grew defensive, though the smile stayed plastered to his face, "I was just being nice! I can have it if you don't want."

"No no... you just never wake so early, let alone make breakfast." Gaius' permanently raised eyebrow rose a little further, "Are you sure there's nothing you've done? Something you need?"

Merlin let out a sigh, "For Gods' sake Gaius, just eat your porridge, would you?"

Merlin busied himself while Gaius ate, dressing and checking and then rechecking the flower bunches that still lay in his satchel.Gaius was nodding his head approvingly at the bowl, "You remembered the cinnamon."

The grin on Merlin's face grew wider, "Of course. You're so fussy about it." He gave his satchel one last check, "Well anyway Gaius, I need to head out early today. I have some deliveries to make."

"Deliveri––" the aged man didn't get to finish his question before the young warlock whisked away, the door slamming shut behind him. It was only after he left that Gaius noticed the flowers, still good as new, sitting on the table like Merlin had left them the night before.

The first stop was Gwen and Elyan's home in the lower town. As he approached, Merlin could already hear the ruckus of the brother and sister arguing. If there was one thing Merlin had learnt since being around those two, was that sibling rivalry had no set time or place. The two could be heard bickering at dawn-break across rooms before either had even rose from their cots. Or at midday training you could frequently spot Gwen sneering and poking fun at her brother's swordsmanship.

But if there was another thing Merlin learnt, it was that no matter how intense or long the argument, nothing could break the bond that Gwen and Elyan shared. They always had each other's backs. When Gwen had been (rather unfairly) scolded for not coming into work for a week because she had a high fever, Elyan was the one who stood up to the nasty head maid. And when Elyan had had a few too many tankards of mead and couldn't manage to get to training, Gwen didn't hesitate to vouch for her brother when Leon went on an accusing rant about his 'character'.

In short, the siblings could be either irritatingly quarrelsome or inspiringly loving and could go from one to the other in a matter of seconds.

But right now, it was definitely the former rather than the latter. Merlin caught snippets of 'Knight!' and "Chambers!' from Gwen and 'Sister!' and 'Leave again!' from Elyan. There was hardly any doubt what this one was about. This squabble was one that had been going on for months.

Arthur had offered all the Knights of the Round Table special chambers in the castle. But Elyan, not wanting to leave Gwen to live on her own again, declined. Of course this made Gwen hysterical. How could her brother be so foolish to turn down an offer like that? A room made for luxury and comfort and anything you could ever want your home to be. The beds in the castle were at least twice the size of the tiny broken cot Elyan slept on in the house, and three scrumptious meals were made for all residents and guests every day. How could he possibly turn that down?

But how could Elyan ever accept the offer knowing that his own sister could very well be the one making those meals tirelessly for him? And how could he ever accept an offer to leave her behind? All alone, like she had been even when their father died. Elyan hadn't returned even then. So how could he ever do that to her again for a bigger bed and some extra food?

So, essentially, it was an argument of love from both sides.

Warm, fuzzy thoughts of home and comfort and family and love buzzed in Merlin head as he attempted to knock loudly on the door. Surprisingly, it was loud enough for the pair to hear over the racket they were making. Gwen swiftly came to answer him, clearly still slightly puffed from the arguing, but she tried to put on a pleasant smile, "Merlin! What are you doing here so early? We were just––"

"Yeah, I heard," Merlin chuckled as Gwen's cheeks flushed a rosy pink and she looked embarrassedly to the ground, "I thought I'd just drop these by."

He held out a fresh nosegay, a careful assortment of foxgloves and stitchwort. He knew how Gwen loved purple things and he's picked up on Elyan's rather adorably childish love for popping stitchworts (he'd stop all the time on hunts and patrols to delightfully pop the flower seeds).

"Oh, Merlin! They're lovely!" Gwen gushed as she accepted the flowers, "Did you grow these? Thank you, Merlin"

"I sure did! And it's not a worry," Merlin beamed at her, "I'll be off now–– more flowers to deliver!"

Gwen smiled to herself after the boy left, placing the flowers in a glass of water and admiring them for a while. She only had a while to appreciate Merlin's sweetness before Elyan came marching in to pick up their argument right where they left it.

Merlin made a few more rounds of flower deliveries, stopping by some maidservants' homes and a couple of knights' chambers. He'd assigned certain posies for each person individually. Percival had a fondness for yellow flowers, so a generous amount of marigold were scattered in his bouquet. Leon loved his winter heath, although that was a secret he preferred to keep quiet. Merlin's closest maidservant, Samera, loved her lilies. She loved them so much that she's shrieked and leapt at Merlin for a hug when he presented the girl her bunch. Gwaine loved handing out daisies to any and all women he saw, young or old, friend or stranger. But he'd been out when Merlin checked, so he'd simply left a note along with his flowers, _'To keep your many admirers satisfied.–Merlin"_

By the time the flower deliveries were out of the way, it was already past Arthur's breakfast time. Merlin had lost track of time and knew that the king would be fuming when he arrived. Haughtily, Merlin hurried into the castle, racing up to Arthur's chamber, where the golden haired king sat at the table with his breakfast laid out in front of him. Despite the slicing glare that he greeted Merlin with, the way the sunlight seeped through his ruffled bed hair made him look rather angelic.

"How kind of you to join me, Merlin. Would you like another servant to make the bed for you too? Why don't you grab a chair and we can share breakfast together?" The king was not a morning person. And Merlin's late arrival had put him in a particularly lousy mood. It was clear that Merlin would not have an easy day today.

"Sorry Arthur I––" Merlin stopped himself at Arthur's raised brow, "Sorry _sire_... I just had some errands to run and..." He paused again. What would Arthur say about his newly established gardening hobby? Surely he'd think it was pansy and girlish. Merlin would never hear the end of it, with endless teases and taunting. No, it was best to not let Arthur know about the flowers. "... I just woke a little late."

"Were you at the tavern again?" Arthur rose now and approached Merlin, sniffing at the boy for any scent of mead. Surprisingly enough, the boy, smelt flowery and fragrant. Slightly perplexed, Arthur stood across him with his arms on his hips, a quizzical frown on his face.

"Hmm?" Merlin, who'd been holding his breath at how close Arthur's face had been (close enough that their faces would brush together if Merlin turned his head just an inch to the right), realised that the man was waiting for an answer. "No! I _stopped_ going to the tavern. I told you that Arthur, if you'd ever listen! Besides, you of all people know that I can't hold my mead."

Arthur harrumphed and nodded, remembering the time he had to drag Merlin from the tavern all the way to Gaius, Merlin leaning heavily on him for support. If normal Merlin had the strength of a baby, drunk Merlin had the strength of a bug. Merlin had clung to his shirt that night, and Arthur had felt like the boys hand were everywhere on him, on his back, his arms, his waist, his hips. It was hardly proper for a royal to be carrying hims his manservant, let alone noticing these things about him. Arthur had tried to get to Gaius' chambers as fast as he could, although Merlin's charming mindless chatter and grasping hands were no help at all.

"Well, fine then. But if you ever turn up this late again, I'll personally see to it that you'll be mucking out the pigsty."

As he turned back to his breakfast, Merlin dutifully retreated to making the bed which looked like a tornado had been through it. Honestly, it was a mystery what Arthur got up to in his sleep to have his bed looking like this in the morning. _It's almost as bad as a pigsty_ , Merlin thought to himself, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle and hoping Arthur didn't hear.

The day was hectic for the unfortunate manservant, as expected, but equally as busy for Arthur too. Camelot was welcoming some guests for the night, who were passing through on their way to a feast in a neighbouring kingdom. For the new king, this was a perfect opportunity to make a good first impression. He'd been told since he was a boy that it would always be the first months of his rule that would determine how nobles and royals from other kingdoms would see him. He needed to earn their respect, now more than ever. Already in his first weeks of power, he had lifted the law that forbade non-nobles from being knighted. He'd seen a number of trusted friends and subjects come forward bravely to be trained and enter into knighthood. Not one of them did he believe were unworthy of the position, but not everyone saw it that way. Gaius hadn't hesitate to make it known to Arthur how those from other kingdoms considered his approaches to be a result of the impulse of youth. They thought he was too young and naive to lead a kingdom as powerful as Camelot. But what they didn't know was that Arthur had been trained for this very thing since as long as he could remember.

Arthur's determination to make a good impression on the guests meant hard work not only for himself, but for Merlin too. The manservant had to be at the guests' beck and call at all times, and though they were gentle-hearted people, Merlin had to run into their designated chambers at least fifty times in the first few hours alone. That, along with errands for Gaius and running after Arthur had the boy exhausted. It was only in the evening that the boy got to relax a bit. The guests had both decided to get an early night in order to set off by light, his errands for Gaius had just finished, and Arthur had finished all his meetings and greetings and training and hearings for the day.

The pair were quietly walking along the corridor, both quietly relieved to finally be able to get some rest, when they bumped into Gwaine. "Merlin!" the knight called out, slowing to a walk, "You left flowers!"

Merlin smiled, then took a sharp breath remembering that Arthur was standing right next to him. He side-eyed the king, who stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Oh sorry. Evening Arthur, how are you doing?" Gwaine added realising that he'd stopped his king as well, "Merlin here left me some flowers this morning. I mean, I knew I had admirers, but I never thought Merlin would be so fond," the grinning man poked jokingly at Merlin's ribs, making him yelp.

"How could I not be? After all, Sir Gwaine is truly the most charming of all the knights," Merlin laughed. Arthur's lips turned down slightly at the corners. Gwaine was hardly considered _charming._ Arthur thought a klutz would be a more suited term for him.

"Damn right I am! You hear that Arthur? Well, I heard you grew them, Merlin." Merlin flushed as he nodded, casting a glance in Arthur's direction to see what he'd say.

Arthur's ear perked up and his eyes brightened, "Merlin? Gardening? Growing flowers? There no way!"

"Sure he did. The other knights said their bouquets are still standing fresh as new. Can't say I'll be keeping mine for long though, what with all the––"

"Women?" Merlin interrupted, "I thought as much. I know how you love spoiling them with your daisies."

"Well what can I say? If it's daisies the ladies want, then who am I to deny them of it?" Gwaine winked back, "Speaking of ladies, I've got a lady to meet down town. I'll see youse later then. Bye Arthur!"

The knight patted Merlin on the back and nodded at Arthur before giddily running off down the corridor. Arthur remained standing there, watching Merlin curiously, "You gave him flowers?"

Merlin toed at his feet nervously. He hoped Arthur didn't think it was strange. He was a grown man after all (well, he like to think he was). "Uh...yeah. It's no big deal though. I just grew a few and I thought there'd be no harm in giving a couple away."

"Flowers for all the knights doesn't sound like a couple, Merlin."

"Well I didn't give _all_ of them flowers. Just Gwaine and Percival and Leon and Elyan, although I added some foxgloves in that bunch for Gwen and I might have given some to..." Merlin trailed off. So maybe he had given flowers to quite a number of people.

"I didn't know you gardened."

Merlin didn't know what to say to that. And was that... Was that a hint of _hurt_ in Arthur's voice? Was he _hurt_ that Merlin didn't tell him? And all this time he thought Arthur would tease him for his love of flowers. Call him a wuss and give him hell for it. But no, he was _hurt._ Merlin could see that clearly now.

Without another word Arthur turned and resumed on his way to his chambers. Merlin silently followed, resolving to grow him some flowers for tomorrow.

Up in Arthur's chambers, the tired king rested, sighing heavily as he sat up against his headboard, eyes closed. Merlin had pretended to be busy, hanging up Arthur's coats and mending the new hole he'd ripped in his sleeping tunic (again, who knew what the man got up to in his sleep?), but eventually he'd given up and thrown himself at the foot of the bed. Which is what he did around this time most days anyway. Arthur slowly opened his eyes to observe his manservant and, though he rarely acknowledged it, his friend. The boy was clearly exhausted, his right arm resting over his head as he laid there breathing deeply with the sunset sky painting shades of pink and orange over his face. The light made it look like the tips of the boy's hair was on fire. Arthur smiled to himself.

Cautiously, Arthur started, "So... how do you know what flowers to give them?"

"Huh?" Merlin's eyes snapped open and a small panic erupted in his chest. He fidgeted at his shirt, not bothering to get up, "Well, I just know what they like."

"Well, yeah, but how? Do you ask them?"

"No. I just pick up on it." He looked to Arthur who tilted his head, bemused. Merlin rolled onto his stomach, bringing himself closer to Arthur's outstretched leg, "Okay, so. For example, remember Gwen's favourite dress is her purple one? She goes on about it a lot. And she always picks those little flimsy purple flowers from roadsides and weaves them into her hair. So I know she'd love a purple flower. Percival always complains that the flowers in the throne room aren't colourful enough when there aren't any yellow ones. Samera, she takes home the lilies in the palace once they've been used."

Arthur was speechless for a moment. He knew Merlin was observant––it was a quality he admired. It meant that he could always pick up on when Arthur needed some quiet or cheering up or simply a good friend by his side to make him feel a little less lonely. But he didn't know he noticed things like _that._ After a while, he said, "Do you know what my favourite flower is?"

Merlin pondered this for some time. He fidgeted with his fingers, still on his belly, as he realised, he didn't. The one person he cared about possibly more than anyone else, he didn't know Arthur's favourite flower. He couldn't believe it. Why didn't he know? He should know. What could it be? Was it jasmines? Did he like roses? Lavender? Why didn't he know? Merlin looked up at Arthur

"I don't."

Arthur looked away, to the window.

"Well, what is it?"

"I don't have one."

"That's not true!"

"What do you mean that's not true? How would you know?"

"Everyone has a favourite flower Arthur!"

"What's yours then?"

"Peonies."

"Peonies?"

"Yeah, peonies."

"I've never seen any peonies around here."

"They never sell peony seeds around here." Merlin frowned. Arthur was changing the topic. He still hadn't told him what his favourite flower was. "So what's yours?"

"I told you, I don't have one."

"Arthur!"

"Shut up Merlin!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

And with that, Merlin pushed himself off the bed and marched off out the room. His brain was going a million miles an hour. What could Arthur's favourite flower be? As he wandered through the hallways, he stopped by the chambers in the citadel. Morgana's chambers.

Merlin calmed, his head bowed and shoulders slouched. Merlin looked down at his satchel swung over his shoulder. There was just one more posy left. He cracked open the heavy door, cringing as it made a loud creak, having not been used for ages. Inside, Morgana's chambers looked like it has always done. There was a pale beauty to it, the same kind that Morgana herself had. The beautiful long white drapes hung over the bed like a wedding veil on a gorgeous bride.The sheets on the bed remained untouched and unmade, gathering dust. The sunlight peeked through the holes in the curtains where moths had eaten through. Morgana's hairbrush still laid on her dressing table, as if she'd never left. As if she was still here.

On the desk stood a single vase, empty.

Merlin slowly walked over to it, taking out the delicately wrapped flowers out of his satchel along with his waterskin. After giving the vase a quick wipe with his shirt, he emptied his water into it and placed the baby's breath inside.

He lingered there, his hands gripping onto the table and trying to hold back tears. The boy let out a sigh, remembering the loving friend he once had. He remembered her kindness, her smiling eyes, her deep love for all things good. He remembered her fondness for baby's breath. He remembered how she had explained to Merlin why she loved them so much. How she felt strangely at peace when she saw them. How she was sure that it had something to do with her mother. That perhaps baby's breath was her mother's favourite flower too. He remembered how she quietly revealed that maybe her mother may have had magic. He remembered how she'd looked afraid when she told him, like he'd laugh or yell or tell the king. He remembered the look of relief she had when he nodding and squeezed her hand.

Merlin was so immersed in the memories that he hadn't noticed Arthur come in. He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder now, "Merlin?"

"Mmm?" It was the third time Arthur had called his name. Normally Arthur would be ranting about Merlin's carelessness but here and now, the same sorrow shrouded his own head.

"Baby's breath."

"She loved them."

"I remember."

The two stood there, side by side, Arthur's hand still resting on Merlin's shoulder. There was a heaviness in the air. An emptiness in the room. Arthur's gentle voice broke the long pause, now running his hands over the flowers, "When we were little, we used to go out to visit Gorlois' grave together. She'd always stop in the fields to pick these flowers. Two bunches. She'd always have two. She'd place one on his grave. She cling to the other one, press it to her chest and sob, wishing she's know where to leave the baby's breath for her mother. Wishing she'd known what had happened, if she'd see her again. Wishing that her mother knew how much she needed her."

Merlin imagined it. A young Morgana, crying for the mother she never knew, the love and affection she never got. He couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "She yearned for her mother. Everyone deserves to feel a mother's love." Merlin turned to face Arthur, wiping the tears from his eyes, "You yearn for your mother too, Arthur."

Arthur frowned scrunching his nose and pulling his brows together. He turned to face away, leaning on the table, "It was different for me. I've heard about what my mother was like. I knew that she had hair as bright as the moon and eyes like emeralds. I knew she had a heart of gold. I knew that she loved me dearly, even if she never even saw me, even though she never even got to hold me." Arthur stopped, swallowing and stifling tears, "I knew she loved going on picnics by the river, that she loved sunflowers because they always faced the light and that gave her hope. I knew that she danced like an angel with my father, even better by herself."

Merlin watched the king as he spoke, the way he blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes. "Sunflowers?"

Arthur stood upright. He'd given himself away. Sunflowers. He nodded and smiled weakly at his friend, "Sunflowers." Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture and walked briskly out the door, stopping to glance back at his sister's chambers one last time to take it all in.

Merlin listened as the king's footsteps retreated further away. Of course it was sunflowers. No other flower could suit Arthur better. Bright and bold and golden. He smiled to himself, _Sunflowers were perfect for Arthur._

He realised that Morgana's chambers had grown dark. How long had he been there? Merlin took out a note from his satchel and placed it in the desk by the flowers. _"We miss you."_ it read. With that, Merlin hurried out. He had to get to the merchants before they all packed away for the night. He needed those sunflower seeds. And He'd make them grow as big as they possibly could, even if it took all the magic in the world.

**♡♡♡**

Arthur woke the next morning to the twittering of the songbirds outside his window. He sat up on his bed, his sheets lying messily half on the floor. The curtains had been pulled back and the sunlight was pouring in and splitting shadows over his room. It was pleasant surprise to see that his breakfast was ready for him. His shirt and coat were folded neatly on the chair.

On the other side of the room, a vase full of giant sunflowers, adorned the table. Their wide petals faced the sun like a group of eager children. A note rested next to the flowers.

_"Always face the light."_

Arthur snorted and a goofy smile overtook his face. Leaning in close, he let the flowers graze over his nose. In the morning sun, the scene looked magnificently magical. Arthur looked like he was sparkling. His hair shone golden to match the bright flowers and his eyes shone bright as he reread the note over about million times, his grin getting impossibly wider each time. He held it firmly in his hands and held it to his heart.

_Now where on Earth would he find peony seeds?_

**♡♡♡**

** _fin_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I did my first one shot! What did you think. Give me you harshest critique! This was really nice and relaxing to write, and I hope you enjoyed reading it and much as I did writing it!


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